


Just another night

by killerweasel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Greg wonders if what they have is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just another night

Title: Just another night  
Fandom: _Sherlock_  
Characters: Greg Lestrade/Sherlock Holmes  
Word Count: 520  
Rating: PG-13  
A/N: pre-series  
Warnings: N/A  
Summary: Sometimes Greg wonders if what they have is real.

Greg had just kicked his shoes off when the door to the flat flew open. Sherlock came storming in with a nasty cut on his cheek and a black eye. He already knew it was foolish to suggest Sherlock go to hospital for stitches. The only times Sherlock went was when he’d either been knocked unconscious or passed out from blood loss. Sherlock would barely be patched up before he started deducing things about the doctors and nurses to the point where they didn’t care if he left against medical advice. Then Greg would have to deal with him.

Greg sighed as he walked over to Sherlock. “You’re getting blood on my carpet. Come on, I’ll patch you up and while I do, you can explain to me what happened.”

Sherlock made a rude noise. “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” Greg grabbed him by the wrist. “I don’t think you need any stitches, but I am going to close that gash up.”

“Fine.” Sherlock’s eyes flicked down to his wrist. “Are you going to drag me in there?”

“I can if I have to.” He gave Sherlock a look. “It has been a very long day. I’m tired. Could you just do what I ask without making it into another fight for a change?”

Sherlock yanked his wrist free before walking towards the loo. Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Sherlock felt about him. Sure, he might say he felt the same way Greg did, but what if it was all some kind of a sham? What if this whole thing was just another one of Sherlock’s experiments?

“Are you coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Greg walked to the doorway of the loo. Sherlock had set out the usual medical supplies and was leaning against the wall. The blood from the wound on his cheek had run down his skin and was slowly turning the collar of his white shirt crimson. “You should have one of your more competent people look into the Carloff brothers. They’re responsible for the bank heists, not Gordon Hartfeld.”

Greg grabbed the smaller towel from the rack, got one of the ends damp, and then began to clean the wound. “Are they responsible for this too?”

“This is from one of their associates.”

“So explain to me how you know it was them.” The corners of Greg’s mouth turned up as Sherlock launched into one of his deduction rants. It never failed to amaze him how Sherlock reached his conclusions. Greg knew Sherlock was showing off more than he had to, but he didn’t mind.

Sherlock was still speaking when Greg put on the last bandage. Greg shifted his hand so two of his fingers ended up pressed against Sherlock’s mouth. “Enough.” He bit his lip to smother a groan as Sherlock’s tongue began to wrap around his fingers. “Bedroom. Now.”

The smile on Sherlock’s face as he got to his feet was absolutely beautiful. Even if this turned out to be a sham, Greg intended to enjoy every moment of it for as long as it lasted.


End file.
